


Lasting Marks

by sunlightsmarrow



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-14 16:23:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18951727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlightsmarrow/pseuds/sunlightsmarrow
Summary: Pleades Galeweaver, son of the Captain of the Guard, has returned after a worldwide trek that was supposed to be a death sentence. He returns to find his childhood friend has taken the crown. Welcomed back as a hero and suddenly faced with feelings that he had carefully stowed away and planned to bring to his grave, he must contend with the fact that some things die with childhood, and others leave lasting marks.





	Lasting Marks

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing Anduin. Based off of my wow character because I'm a nerd and wanted to give him a backstory. 
> 
> You like cliches, then boy you're in the right place.

War was an excellent tool for ripping people apart. It was great for instilling fear for the relationships of millions. And even the King of Stormwind and his best friend were not immune from its effects.

Son of the Captain of the Guard, Pleades Galeweaver grew up in the Stormwind Court. He enjoyed the finest feasts, most joyous victories, and met people from far-off lands. He also was raised as one of the strongest healers of his generation. Not quite as strong as his best friend, though. Anduin Wrynn and he grew up together. They were born mere months apart--the King being the older of the two. Pleades being the only boy his age who had regular contact with him, they were virtually brothers, roughhousing in the throne room and ricocheting holy and void energy at each other, and occasionally taking up swords, daggers, and bows against each other just for the fun of it.

But war had come, and things were different now. Both boys being peace loving, Varian had sent Pleades to scout the world and figure out what would be a salve for the dissent of Alliance and Horde alike. But with the coming of the Burning Legion and the fall of the most honorable man Pleades had ever known, Anduin was King now. Not once in the three years that Pleades travelled the farthest reaches of the world did Anduin write. Of course Pleades sent home his reports and recommendations, but they couldn’t risk a message from the heir and successor of the crown. 

Now, Pleades was finally heading home. He could see Lakeshire over the crest of the Hill and knew that by nightfall, he could make it to the gates of Stormwind. He hadn’t sent along word that he was coming--Anduin would be busy or even in Kul’Tiras trying to beat bad the tyran Sylvanas. But at least he would be home, and at least perhaps he could hear word from the boy who had grown to be the High King. 

Pleades entered Elwynn Forest from the West, passing the Eastvale Logging Camp and continuing through to Goldshire. As always, revelers, drunks, and women flooded the tavern and the small square. People dueled, and to an extent Pleades was not sure if the little village was getting sacked or if this was the product of few guards and a last stop outside the Stormwind gates.

Squeezing past some succubi, the young priest made his way up the hill to Stormwind. Night had fallen, but the gates stood wide open. He pulled his travelling cloak around him. The smells of the city were so familiar to him, locked away in the far reaches of his mind. A lot had happened in the last few years. He had grown a beard, black whiskers rather full for a boy his age. He had grown taller, more muscular from fighting off undead, bears, dragonkin, and naga. He was ready to be a man now. And he only hoped that he would be welcomed back now that his quest was complete.

Most of the citizens of Stormwind were away in their beds when he entered the Trade Quarter. The city was peaceful this late at night, and Pleades wanted to enjoy it. So he wandered through the town, taking all that had changed since the Cataclysm, when he last saw this city. He made his way toward Cathedral Square, but his eye was caught by the memorial that had been placed for King Varian. It was deserted now except for the guards who stood by his grave. They paid little mind to the traveler, but he stood at a distance, taking in the beautiful park and fountain that led to the stately memorial. The stars were shining beautifully above and beyond he could see the ocean, stretching forever in front of this port city.

About half an hour passed with Pleades seated in a bench, just relaxing in the warm Summer breeze. He could take unhurried breaths and need not be on the lookout for potential threats. While not generally a suspicious man, Pleades had developed a wariness that he feared would not quickly wane. It was that wariness that drew his attention to a hooded figure approaching the monument. The guards paid him no mind. Pleades could not make out much but for blonde hair and a regal nose. The man ascended the steps and came to stand at the head of the coffin. He bent and rested his head on it, reaching one arm up to brace his forehead against the cool marble. It was a strange gesture for someone to make, and it was compounded by being so late at night. After a few moments, he man raised his head and turned. His hood had fallen back, and Pleades gasped in surprise. A laugh of glee fell from his lips, and it was enough to draw Anduin Wrynn's attention. The King immediately reached for the dagger at his hip, but paused, squinting in Pleades’ direction. 

The priest watched as relief and joy spread over his King's face. Anduin ran forward and Pleades rose. He started to kneel, but Anduin slammed into him before he reached the ground. Anduin had grown strong in the last few years. He squeezed Pleades in an embrace so tight he could barely breathe.

“Oh, my dearest friend, how I missed you!” Anduins voice was soft, sincere, yet bubbling with giddiness. “I thought you'd be lost to us. I thought you'd never come back. Light!” His voice cracked and when they pulled apart, Pleades could see tears in Anduin's eyes.

“I feared you had forgotten me.” Pleades’ smile spread across his face. “When I wrote all of those letters, I tried to think that I was writing to you. Did you find them useful?” 

Anduin cupped the shorter man's face in his large, capable hands. It was a touch of camaraderie. Those Prussian blue eyes were filled with longing for a return to the casualty the two had felt when they were boys playing Orcs and Humans and whispering to each other about the little lords and ladies who rotated through the Keep.

“Pleades, they were instrumental. Not just strategically, but for morale. You uncovered that all anyone wants is peace. You managed to forge relationships with Tauren, Orc and Troll. But you came back. My dear friend, I don't think you realize how much that means to me.” Pleades still knew Anduin well enough to know that he wasn't speaking of the Kingdom at this time. The King's eyes wouldn't be ripped off of his friend of Deathwing herself came through and destroyed the city once more. The intense feeling that Pleades felt made him instinctively step back. Anduin released him, suddenly cognizant of a dozen guards around them. 

“Do you have a place to stay? Come to the Keep. No one touched your room since you left save the servants to beat away spiders.”

Pleades laughed as Anduin led the way out of the memorial grounds. “Lion's Rest, they call it. I go there to reflect, sometimes, and to get strength when I need it. Father told me that I will have to fight for the right cause. I hate to do it, but thousands more will be subjected to worse fates. You've helped me see that.” Anduin's eyes glittered in the darkness.

“I'm so glad to see you haven't changed,” Pleades said quietly. “I was afraid, as were many of your citizens, that you would have become more like your father with his passing. You are a good man, Anduin.” 

The King scoffed. “I feel that I have changed profoundly, yet this war challenges all that I thought I knew about this world. We have found powerful allies in the Kul'Tirans. I owe Jaina a debt I could never repay from the battle of Lordaeron. She is the reason the Alliance still stands.” 

They had arrived at the Keep. Most of the servants and nobles had gone to bed, but Anduin still called for ale and whatever was left in the kitchen after their supper hours before. He had Pleades’ room unlocked and aired for a while. As they waited, Anduin led the way out onto a terrace. There they drank, the moon high above them. Pleades told stories of the places he went, the monsters he fought, and Anduin spoke of the politics and situations that were not too dark for a night of celebration. For a moment, the two men who had inherited such great responsibility and had seen so much were boys again, laughing together, shoulders brushing as they leaned over the railing and stared out across the outskirts of the city and to the inky depths where destiny or fate awaited them.

“My father asked me before he died if I had plans for providing an heir.” Anduin took a large swig from his glass and refilled it. “I told him I would marry my best friend when it came to it. He was not pleased. He said that the King should marry for political gain. I understand the duty and reason behind it. But he doesn't get to decide.”

The King eyed Pleades as if waiting for a reaction. Perhaps he was looking for agreement, or corroboration. After a few moments of contemplation, he opened his mouth. “I think that it would be good for Azeroth that a ruler choose love over political gain.” When Pleades met Anduin’s eyes, he found himself pressing his back against the cool bannister. There was a hunger there that was disarming. Anduin did well to hide it--his Noble upbrining was useful for hiding true emotion, even to long lost friends, but Pleades saw it all the same. Years of travelling and meeting many people made him good at reading people’s intentions. Intentions such as these were not unwelcome on a primal level, but had the capacity to shatter kingdoms.

“By your leave, Your Grace, I think I should get some rest.” 

Anduin was shaken a bit closer to sobriety. “Of course. The ale is making rest all the more seducing.” They began walking toward Pleades’ room. They night had grown chilly but the shiver that ran through Pleades when they reached his room was not entirely from the chill. It had been a long day for both of them, apparently, and he was not thinking clearly. Their eyes met in the low torchlight. Pleades could see the color rise in Anduin's cheeks. The King's lips fell open just slightly, and it took quite a bit of will power for Pleades to turn the handle of the door to his room and step most of the way inside.

Pleades could feel his heart rising in his throat as memories of young, foolish fantasies played through his head. They were boys, learning about what they might want in life years ago. A particularly potent memory of them just before the Cataclysm entered his head--they must have just been eleven or twelve, stripped to the waist and splashing in the pools behind the Keep. They had seen each other naked or shirtless dozens of times, but Pleades thought back to how different it felt now that Anduin was growing some hair on his chest and his thin frame was expanding to mirror his father's broad shoulders and narrow waist. Now,his friend had grown into a handsome, noble ruler with pressure of keeping his bloodline going. That didn't stop the squeeze Pleades felt in his chest that hadn't really released since he saw him a few hours ago, actualized into the tall, gentle, soft-faced Prince turned King.

“Good night, Anduin.” As with all the times he wrote that name, whispering it into the parchment, his mouth moving around the syllables was a dance, and the sound of it was poetry.

“Light's rest, dear friend.”

~~~

After years of travelling, Pleades was not interested in interacting much with strangers. A few moments of peace were most welcome when he could grab them, and his natural introversion was peaking tonight. Anduin had generously called together the leaders that he had assembled in this new war against the Horde. They were honorable men and women, but a bit much for Pleades to comfortably handle. Thus, the moment it became socially acceptable for him to retreat to the library and find something to read and occupy his mind that wasn't the overt (and effective) flirtation from the Kul'Tiran Flynn Fairwind, he took it.

It was blessedly quiet. The books were meticulously maintained, arranged by subject and author. The smell of decay had been mostly mitigated by the historian and archivist, but a certain attractive mustiness remained in the air. Since his tutors had taught him to read, this was always a place of repose for him. While his study of the light and diplomatic affairs were the most useful, Pleades had had some success in the pub trivias get and Anduin used to sneak out to when they were younger, much to the ire of the regular patrons. The level of hellfire that rained down on them when one of the king's guards happened upon the establishment after a shift though, will most likely never be rivaled again. The boy didn't see each other for a month before Varian calmed down, and it was another six months until they boys could even consider going back with the guards the King posted outside their windows and doors after they were sent to bed.

Smiling at the memory, the priest selected a book about the flora and fauna of Duskwood and began to read. He had been reading for about three quarters of an hour when he felt the air change a little. He heard footsteps, and watched the historian who kept watch over the library leave. Her shock of red hair disappeared and he heard her murmur something to someone. Silence resumed, and Pleades went back to reading about the ogres and how they had made their journey to the south of the area. 

“Still preferring books over people,” came the elegant voice. Anduin stood at the end of the row. “Everyone was glad to meet you, by the way. Taelia blushed when I asked her if she had met you. You made quite the impression.” 

Pleades looked up at Anduin with a small smile on his face. “I think Fairwind was a bit more taken. He asked me to dance twice.” 

“Fairwind is a chronic flirt, but a brilliant strategist and shot when I need him to be.” Anduin stepped closer, peering at the book in Pleades’ hands. The darker man showed him what he was reading and Anduin sat down next to him, reading the current topic over his shoulder. 

Pleades shrugged. “Not exactly my type. I prefer someone with steadier hands. Or ones that don't find themselves on my backside three minutes past meeting.”

Anduin laughed, but it was thin and high. Definitely not a laugh of a man at ease. “He's had lots of practice on that front. Many people, men and women from most races, have fallen to his charms.”

“I don't think he understands the concept of vows,” joked the shorter man. He closed the book genelty and faced his ruler. “Thank you for arranging the feast. You've secured some good people as allies.”

Anduin smiled ruefully. “I only wish we didn't have to attempt to thwart the Horde at every turn. I wish Sylvanas would only listen to reason, but she seems too far gone. I witnessed her murder her own people. I nearly died when she chose pride over a reasonable defeat.” Anduin absently touched a scar on his arm that Pleades had not noticed before. Anduin did not often bare his arms, even in this heat. The cut had slivered muscle. It was red and angry and the younger man felt a flare of anger sparked inside of him. He imagined how Anduin would have cried out in pain and his stomach clenched thinking about his friend's blood dripping onto battle-torn grass. With little hesitation, Pleades placed his fingers in the groove and Anduin sucked in air sharply as the thick pads of his friend's fingers made contact with the sensitive flesh. Their eyes met as Pleades gently rubbed circles over the length of the scar. The warmth and peace of holy magic spread between them, and after a few moments Anduin rested his head against the bookcase and closed his eyes, letting out a contented sigh.

“I--I have tried to cure this but some things will leave lasting m-m-marks.” Anduin's face was brilliantly red and his Prussian blue eye were wide and blown. This close, Pleades could hear how dry his throat was and smell a little hint of wine and the boar they had had for dinner. And of course there was the perfume of the dignitaries that clung to his skin. Pleades dare not name the visceral feeling that overcame him, of he knew jealousy would he foolish and unreasonable--all of these people greeting and touching the most important person in his world…

The soft candlelight in the library was starting to go to Pleades’ head. His best friend's face was shrouded in shadow but what parts of his skin that were lit seemed to nearly glow with the warm pink of Anduin's flesh. The dark-haired priest's attention was focused entirely on the real Anduin under his finger tips. The one with muscles and hair and the one who was impossibly close, skin thrumming with life and face close enough to rest on his shoulder. This was not the Anduin of dreams, the one that smelled of nothing, whose skin was always just out of reach, whose body heat was never felt even being so close in Dreamworld. Pleades didn't want to think about the feelings he felt right now. He had dreamed of being around his friend again for years. And now, weeks after his return to Stormwind, they were closer than ever.

Their eyes met once more, and whatever forces of nature, the Light, or Azeroth herself made them inch closer and closer together. Their breaths ghosted between each other. Anduin's hand came up and his fingers played in the thick black curls at the base of Pleades’ neck. And the shorter man wanted this. He wanted this closeness, to never have to worry about losing his friend--or this man he had come to trust more than anyone in the whole world. One invitation and he could fall into the romance that Anduin had been offering for weeks. And Light, if Sylvanas brought the forsaken to the gates of the Keep tomorrow, he'd dare not live with the regret of not sealing the gap that had lingered I him since his teenage years.

“Ah! The men of the hour shirking their duties! We have missed you, the ale had told me it longs to fill your bellies and dull your minds.” 

A very drunk Flynn Fairwind leaned clumsily against a bookcase. Anduin pulled away, biting his lip almost enough to crack through it. “I wish the ale would tell you to go away, damn it,” he muttered. Pleades was torn between laughing and being mortified of being caught like this. The drunk smuggler jarred him to his senses. This was very bad. Anduin needed to love someone who could give him an heir. No trysts with a committed priest would do. Pleades could lose everything if this got out. Even Anduin had to acknowledge that Pleades would lose all credibility in the church if this came out. At this point, he was not about to forsake the very thing that had put him in this position so close to Anduin. They had trained together, hurt each other with magic and then immediately healed the wounds. But a church against its King? A king who belonged to that church? That would make some very powerful people very upset, Benedictus and Farthing especially.

“Apologies, Flynn,” said Anduin. He had managed to retain his grace rather quickly. “You know I'm not usually one for crowds. We we're just taking a breather.” He offered a very convincing smile, and the Kul'Tiran shrugged.

“All well and good. Let's get some ale in you.” It was a command and Pleades snickered at the audacity. They played along, though, and followed him back into the throng. Any more lingering together and people would talk. And Pleades was determined to never let that happen again.

~~~

Stormwind market day was one of Pleades’ favorite things about Saturday mornings. After watching the sun rise on the terrace, he threw on his cloak, tied his coin purse to his belt, and set out. In another life, he would have been a baker and sat out in the dewy morning and hawked his wares. But today, he could enjoy relative peace and avoid the eyes of the courtiers. A few more weeks had passed since the incident in the library and Pleades had been much more careful. He stamped down inappropriate feelings--repression was a skill best learned by priests, after all. 

As a boy he loved darting through people’s legs, getting as close as he could to the sweets and meat vendors. He enjoyed shoving his nose as close as it could get to a sourdough loaf. And now he had the opportunity to buy them. He was rewarded enough to live comfortably for the rest of his life by Anduin for completing his mission. On top of it, he had a roof over his head and three warm meals in his stomach for as long as Anduin reigned. He passed by the flower merchants and the toy merchants. Gnomes with goggles perched on their heads could be heard over most other vendors, their high voices carrying over the Dwarven District. Pleades also enjoyed the press of people. Many had brought pets, magically conjured or otherwise, with them. Some of the finer ladies had parasols and maids following them, arms full of breads, wrapped parcels, and Pleades noticed that one even had a kite. 

He stopped at a stall to purchase a pastry and was munching happily on it when he felt a tug at his cloak. A little girl stood in front of him. She was a night elf, clearly one displaced by the burning of Teldrassil. He saw the elves everywhere, but Anduin assured him that once they could afford to pay people, any spare room in the city would be opened up and small huts would be built in any patch of grass available to accommodate the refugees.

“M’lord,” she started, “would you buy me a pastry like that one? It’s been mostly potatoes for me and it being a Saturday, I’d appreciate the kindness. I won’t ask you again, please sir.” Tears welled in her eyes and the priest reached out to pat her on the shoulder. 

“Of course, my dear. There’s a stall just over there. Pick whatever you like, however much you like.” 

The little girl squealed in delight. Pleades laughed with her and followed as she skipped to the stall. Her eyes were huge as she looked at all of her options. Her ears bounced with every movement. 

It took a few minutes before Pleades recognized the screams in the crowd as those of fear and pain. The movement of the crowd changed in an instant as they became a mob. Pleades grabbed the little girl, pulling her close to him. Soon he heard heavy boots running, low grunts, and the rattle of Undead voices. Some of the Horde had come to terrorize the city. It wasn’t totally uncommon, but it was dangerous enough to leave dozens dead. 

Pleades turned and grabbed her by the shoulders, kneeling to face leve. “Run, my child. Get back to your family.” He reached into his cloak pocket and handed her a glowing feather. He pushed her, and she took off, running faster than any other child. It wouldn’t last for long, Pleades thought, but it might be enough to save her. 

As people ran by, Pleades touched those he could and healed or shielded those he could reach. But eventually he could make out the orc warrior who was swinging his axe high and aimlessly. With any swoop, he could injure and kill at least five Stormwind citizens. He had to protect as many as he could. Pleades climbed up onto a lamp post, making himself visible--a target--and raised his arms above his head. He shouted to the Light and sparks and beams of Holy magic shot out to many of those around him. He focused his abilities on those who seemed the most injured, healing them from afar if needed. It took little time for the Undead and Orc to notice him. With a mighty roar, the orc charged at him, trampling a path through the crowd. He swung his axe, but it bounced off the shield that Pleades had put up around himself. There was no way he’d bring this warrior down, but he could distract him long enough for the citizens to get away. He continued to heal himself and those around them and attempted to put a dent in either the warlock or the warrior. Most of the citizens had gotten out of the Dwarven District, and the guards were attempting to waylay these powerful people. Pleades was running out of energy, though. His well of Holy energy was running low, and he didn’t have long before another hard hit from either the orc or warlock would do substantial damage.

It came from both of them. Noticing the weakened priest, the orc came charging forward. The warlock began to assemble a bold of chaos energy the was nearly the size of him. Together, both blows fell on him, shattering his shield and slamming into his delicate body. Pleades fell, struggling to breathe. He dropped to his hands and knees, struggling to breathe. He felt the evil of the warlock spell course through his arms and legs--it was agony. The axe had made a good gash on his shoulder, and as he tried to stand he foolishly put most of his weight on it. He felt blinding, searing pain and collapsed once more onto the cobblestones. Boots larger than Pleades’ head stepped closer. The foul smell of orc, blood, and city filled his nose. He coughed and sputtered, and with the loss of blood and the level of pain his vision turned blurry. He felt movement in the air as the orc raised his axe above his head to deal the final blow, but Oblivion met Pleades before the final blow was struck.

~~~

Soft evening light streamed in through the windows of the Keep. Pleases stirred in his bed, arms and legs feeling heavy and his head feeling like it had turned into the Great Forge. He felt a gentle hand smooth his hair back and an ever-present thumb running across his forehead.

"Pleades?" Anduin's voice could be heard through the fog, but it was too far away for Pleades to actually make sense of. He heard snippets of conversation-twenty dead and sixty-two injured.

The priest drifted in and out of consciousness for the rest of the day. It was dark when he awoke, head clear enough to make out the details of the room around him. He was in his room and he was comforted by the familiarity. He turned his head and he could see Anduin sitting in a chair that had been brought in. He was asleep, his face peaceful. A little bit of drool dripped off his lip and his hair looked unwashed. A half-eated cinnamon roll sat on the bedside table and a mostly empty glass of milk sat next to it. The clock in his room showed 2:37. Pleases tried to sit up, but the noise from shuffling in the sheets and the creaking of the bed springs jerked Anduin awake.

Now that his head was raised, Pleades could see how exhausted he looked. 

"You look much worse that I feel," the shorter man teased. His voice was hoarse from lack of water, but he still chucked at the expression on Anduin's face. The King reached for a pitcher and filled a glass with water. He handed it to Pleades' good arm and he took a swig, choking a little due to his mouth and throat being so dry.

"You would not have said that two days ago. I have seen men in pain before, but I think you had gone out of your mind with it. Nothing could calm you--not until I could join Velen to heal that shoulder. You won't be wielding a sword any time soon. Some things will leave lasting marks." Pleades' gaze flicked to Anduin's right forearm. It was covered by a simple light blue shirt that had been stained with blood. Pleades' blood.

"You never left my side." It was a statement. Anduin did not forsake cleanliness unless he had to. It was almost an annoying trait of his. 

"Velen said you would wake at any moment. But he also said you may never wake again." Neither noticed that at some point, Anduin had moved from sitting on the chair to on the bed next to his friend. "I'm glad you chose the first option." His smile was warm and Pleades returned it weakly. 

"How many dead?"

"A total of about 80 casualities. 32 dead. Those terrorists escaped off the cliffs of Lion's Rest--an insult that neither I nor the court take lightly." It was rare to see Anduin angry. He often did not agree with his father's methods, but always respected him. "But you are alive, and I thank the Light for that. I don't know what I would do if I lost you again." His voice lost its edge and tentatively he slipped his hand into Pleades'. 

"I wanted to save them. That orc was about to behead me. What happened?"

"I heard the screams and knew you were there. I threw something together so I wouldn't be instantly recognized. I healed who I could but Light, you were so exposed. I managed to pull you over to me just before the blade made contact. I--" Anduin paused to gently squeeze Pleades' hand. "I thought you were already dead." 

Pleades found himself squeezing back. He searched Anduin's face. He looked anxious. 

"I am afraid I have caused a lot of stress in your life." The wounded man's face was serious. He took another sip of water and this time it went down easier. To his surprise, Anduin leaned in close to him, his other hand wrapping around and cradling his neck. Pleades' heart jumped at the closeness and tender touch. His breathing became more labored. 

"On the contrary, dear friend, you've been an anchor." Anduin moved his head just slightly and pressed his lips to Pleades' forehead. His tone turned deadly serious. "Don't _ever_ think you are a burden on me. The punishment for lying to the King is rather grave." 

Pleades smiled first, followed by Anduin's break of stern character. Then Pleades uttered the words. It was an accident. It was meant to be platonic, like brothers, but they came out and the brief silence that followed made Pleades wish the orc had met his mark.

"I love you."

In the span of two seconds confusion, relief, eleation, and horror crossed Anduin's face. The King of Stormwind straightened and extracted himself from his friend. He stood slowly and didn't face Pleades when he said, "I will go tell Velen you're awake. He may have something for your shoulder to truly take care of the pain."

~~~

Pleades did not see Anduin for several days after he woke. Velen had given him a few exercises and salves for his shoulder and it felt better every day. Soon Pleades felt well enough to get up and walk, and he took many meals out on the terrace. Sometimes he would ask servants or dignataries, including Jaina and Flynn when they were in town, if they had seen Anduin, and they said he was on business, or meeting with someone, or just must be busy--there is a war on, you know.

So Pleades sulked. He sat out on the terrace most nights drinking himself silly (much to Velen's frustration) and stumbled to bed, only to rise late in the morning and haunt the Keep even more.

One evening Flynn approached him. Pleades sat out in the terrace, his feet swinging freely in the night as he perched on the ledge. 

"Alright, mate. Let me let you in on a little secret." With no introduction or preamble, Flynn sat down next to Pleades. He stole the bottle from his hands, took a long swig, and put it on his opposite side, out of reach of the priest.

"You've been moping around for days looking for that man. You're drinking like you're convinced he hates you. Boy, have you never been farther from the truth." Flynn clapped his hand on Pleades' shoulder and the priest fixed him with a glare fit for dying. "I'll admit I don't know your king very well--"

"He's your king too."

Flynn scoffed and didn't respond. "I don't know him well enough but I know men desperately in love when I see them. I thought it was Taelia. But she's been gone since before you came back, putzing about I Kul'Tiras trying to convince them to be loyal to King and Country. Anduin's been pining since he laid eyes on you the night you came back."

"You're a liar."

Flynn hit him. He honest-to-Light smacked Pleades upside the head. "Don't make me do that again. I spin the truth for a bounty of treasure but I don't lie, not about people I care about, and damn me but for his insistent kindness Anduin Wrynn is the fairest ruler this world has known for generations. He's been steadfast, calm, collected, and it all went to shit the second you walked in the door. The damn boy is moody. It's disgusting."

If it were anyone else, he would have been thrown out for his language regarding the king. But Flynn's words had a ring of truth to them. Anduin had never stuttered, but that night in the library he was at a loss for words. He was rarely physical with anyone, yet every time they were near each other, Anduin hugged him, brushed shoulders, or as of late kissed him. It was obvious: Anduin Wrynn, the Lion of Stormwind, was in love. And he had no idea what to do about it.

"I can see it in your face. You know I'm right." Flynn was gloating, but it was deserved. Pleases staggered to his feet. He rocked back on his heels and stumbled back until his back hit one of the thick marble columns that flanked the cloister.

"I took a vow," said Pleades after some time. "I took a vow to be celibate for the rest of my life. It was put on me by Farthing and Benedictus. I would be stripped of everything if I broke it."

Flynn looked at him, incredulous. "You don't know?" A sudden laugh escaped his lips at the irony. "You're the reason it doesn't matter. You recall those Twilight bastards--" 

"One more word would be ill-advised, Fairwind."

The pair snapped their attention to that all-too-familiar voice. There Anduin Wrynn stood. He seemed even taller now, but perhaps it was his confident pose. "On your way out, please let the guards know we are not to be disturbed."

Flynn scurried away, and after a few moments And in stepped forward. By the Light, he looked like a King now. Pleades wasn't sure what audience he had just had but he hadn't changed, hadn't even removed the gold circlet that was almost hidden in his equally golden hair.

Pleades opened his mouth, but Anduin held up a hand to stop him. "You'd rather not know, Pleades. Much of your happiness and a large portion of jail time depends on it."

Anduin was close. He smelled of incense that lingered from his evening prayers. Lately, he had been even more devout that the man who had gone through the world as effectively a missionary turned spy.

"I've thought about the last words we shared," he began. 

"I didn't mean--"

"Please, Pledes." The nickname startled the shorter man. It had been years since anyone called him that. "Let me finish. I fear you may hate me forever, but I must be honest with you, as my dearest friend in this world."

With a sign, the Captain of the Guard's son listened to what his Prince grown King had to say. 

"When my father sent you away, I didn't eat for a week. I didn't come out of my room for another. I thought he had given you a death sentence. For all of our bravado, we were just boys." He fell silent, eyes returning to the dark sea beyond the Keep. "You traveled to every nation, met people that I've only dreamed of. And you survived. You saved thousands. You could have found a stunning, trim little night elf and raised a family, forsaking the family and kingdom that had forsaken you. But you came back. My dear Pleades, you came back to me. No one has come to me except for political or social gain. And you came back when I thought your death was as sure as a Kul'Tiran navigator. After Father's death I doubted the Light and its goodness. For a priest, that's perhaps the worst thing that can happen. But when I saw you that night, my boyhood returned. And with it, everything, all of my life that I had dreamed of sharing with you, came back in a way that I've never felt before."

He paused, and Pleades dared not break the silence. Anduin's eyes, those Prussian blue ponds teeming with life, passion, and reverence met his. It rocked Pleases to his core. "So believe me when I say that the vows you took matter little now. You taught the world that love and commonality are more prevalent than hatred and dissonance. The world will listen if we set the right example. And I think no one is more suited to it than you."

They had moved closer together. Neither one knew just how, but they stood not a foot apart. Anduin's hands cupped Pleades' neck and massaged in small circles. No force could tear their eyes apart. "Please forgive me. Please forgive my father. And please, Pleades Galeweaver, help me bring peace to this world. No one, not even a King, can do it alone."

Pleased should not have been surprised at how soft Anduin's lips were, but they were plump, warm, and compliant under his. Cannon flack went off between them, yet they kissed with such tenderness. They were deliberate, slow, taking their time and conversing through years of teenage fantasies, long, sleepless nights, deep, visceral longings. It was not a primal kiss. It was a kiss to shatter kingdoms, and rebuild them with righteousness, kindness, and peace as the focus.

Anduin was the one to deepen the kiss. His right hand snaked down to press against Pleades' lower back, and the left wrapped around his upper back. He didn't need much to coax their tongues together, tentative at first, and then developing their own dance. 

Air soon became necessary and the two broke apart. The beginnings of bruises formed on Pleades' lips and he smiled bright and wide for Anduin. 

Together they waited, sitting on the terrace together just like that first night. Only tonight, they were never not touching, holding each other, or sharing an intimate, tender kiss. Together, two boys with the fate of the world in their hands, they watched the sun rise on a new day where peace, love, and justice would reign, even over Kings and Warchiefs. For no one person could do it alone, but with the proper companion, one became two, two became ten, and ten became millions. And maybe this time, peace would be the only thing that left lasting marks.


End file.
